


Two Perfect Strangers

by poselikeateam



Series: Higher Vampire Jaskier AUs [19]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, Getting Together, Higher Vampire Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Being an Idiot, M/M, Married Couple, Monster of the Week, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, OR IS HE, Old Married Couple, Overprotective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Purring Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Purring Witchers (The Witcher), Secret Relationship, Secrets, Spy Jaskier | Dandelion, Vampire Jaskier | Dandelion, Witcher Contracts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26381938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poselikeateam/pseuds/poselikeateam
Summary: Jaskier thinks (hopes) that, now that Geralt knows that he isnotall human and vulnerable andsquishy, the witcher will finally let him see some exciting things! Unfortunately, he is disappointed. So, what's a bored immortal to do? Get back into spywork, of course. And it all goes very well, until someone tries to introduce him to his own husband.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Higher Vampire Jaskier AUs [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754371
Comments: 31
Kudos: 807





	Two Perfect Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _the truth_ by The Front Bottoms. Idea is from this prompt: "Write a story in which two people who know each other are introduced — but neither person admits to knowing the other."

Look, being a bard is great. He loves it, truly. It's not just his trade, it's his _essence_. The poetry, the music, the adoration, he lives for it, breathes it, bathes in it the same way Geralt sinks into a steaming tub after a long and difficult ordeal. Jaskier loves life, loves _his_ life, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

It's just that sometimes, he wants _more_. One of the things that drives him mad about playing human is that he never gets to see any real _excitement_. Geralt thinks him fragile, and never lets him close to where the violence is or will be. It's sort of sweet, but it gets boring very quickly.

He's tired of the witcher keeping him at arms' length when they both know that that is the last thing either of them wants. There has always been one wall that he could never quite pass, and he senses it every time Geralt meets his eyes and looks away, expression stormy and conflicted; every time Geralt leans into his touch, only to stiffen when he realises it, pulling away and shattering the moment like glass; every time those golden eyes look at him in the cover of night, sure that human eyes couldn't see the contemplative sadness that washes over him.

It all comes to a head one night when Geralt is, frankly, more drunk than Jaskier has ever seen him. Some Witcher brew that could fuck them up as vodka does with mere men. And alcohol is, sometimes, the most potent truth potion there is. Under its influence, Geralt finally admits that he couldn't let himself get attached, that he hadn't been afraid in decades but he is _terrified_ of losing Jaskier one day, and that... breaks his poet's heart. 

"Dearest," Jaskier murmurs, cradling Geralt's face with a hand — and the White Wolf isn't shying away from his touch now, is leaning into it like he was a starving man and this simple touch was a feast. "My heart, you will _not_ lose me. I have seen empires rise and fall. Your ancestors were my contemporaries. Oh, how my heart breaks for you; I can hardly express how many times I have been in the same position as you. If I could offer any advice, it would be this, dear heart: you will regret the time wasted far more than the opportunities taken."

They share their first kiss under the stars that night and for the first time in centuries, Jaskier is truly content.

The next morning, Geralt does not ask about it. He does not say a word, and Jaskier is worried that he may not even remember, but the kiss that is tentatively pressed to his forehead quickly banishes those fears from his mind.

It's lovely, it's wonderful, it's everything he wanted. Finally he's scaled that last wall, jumped that last hurdle; Geralt knows, he knows everything Jaskier had been trying to keep to himself, and he still _wants him_. 

What he hadn't counted on was what a mother hen his witcher can be — or, perhaps, a mother bear. The point is that Geralt is even more fiercely protective over him than he was before. Jaskier wants to say that it doesn't make any sense, but he is a poet, and he sees this for what it is: he is no longer protecting his annoying friend, but protecting what is truly, completely _his_. And, while Jaskier has _always_ been Geralt's, it's only now that the witcher himself finally seems to realise it. 

At first, he tries logic. He is a higher vampire. He isn't going to get hurt easily. Geralt simply counters that he'd rather not take the risk. He throws in a jibe about Jaskier complaining, and very unfairly brings up the time he got a papercut and wailed, perhaps a bit dramatically, about his untimely demise. 

Okay, no logic, then. At least he saw Geralt smile, even if it was at his expense. 

If logic won't work he tries the aforementioned complaining and caterwauling. He whines, he cajoles, he huffs and pouts, he even stamps his foot once or twice. "I'm more likely to die of boredom than because of a couple of harpies," he insists. Geralt ignores him, tells him to stay put, and finally shuts him up with a kiss. It's annoyingly effective. 

But, it gives Jaskier an idea! He has a whole new arsenal with which to try to convince Geralt to let him come along. And he's never been one for false modesty. He knows that he can be very seductive. He knows what his skills are and how to use them, and he's pretty confident in his sex appeal. 

All he does is help Geralt kill time before the hunt, leaving an effectively boneless and completely fucked-out vampire too tired to follow behind him.

Fine, if that isn't going to work (though he'll hardly call it a loss), he'll just follow. He knows how far back to stay, how long to wait before following where the witcher disappeared into the trees or swamp or what have you. He is also pretty good at Geralt-tracking, he thinks, and it isn't really his fault that his senses are attuned to his traveling companion, especially after how many times Jaskier has had to hold himself together while Geralt's (frankly delicious-smelling) blood spills out of him. 

He will concede, though, that he may have miscalculated. He seems to have forgotten about witcher senses.

Which, by the way, is a stupid thing to forget about, and he knows that. His darling White Wolf is wolflike in more than just name. He has a powerful sense of smell and, since wolves mate for life...

Geralt is often embarrassed about his less human traits, when they decide to come out in their relationship. The first time Jaskier heard him purr, Geralt was so mortified that he got up and rode, without stopping, to the next town. So it's not like he's going to bring up the things he wants or needs if he thinks it's _strange_. As if Jaskier isn't? 

There were signs, though. They sleep tangled together more often than not, and the witcher rubs and snuffles against his throat most nights when they lie down and most mornings before getting up. Of course, neither of them brings it up or draws any attention to it. Jaskier has learned his lesson, thank you. But there's not just that — Geralt also very obviously prefers for Jaskier to sleep in _his_ clothes. They're of a height, but Geralt's so massively muscley that his tunics sort of hang off of Jaskier's frame. He always thought Geralt just liked seeing a bit more of his skin, or had some possessive thing going on, but now he realises what was really going on. Geralt has been making sure that Jaskier smells like him.

So, sort of a possessive thing, but not in the way he thought. Jaskier doesn't mind carrying his lover's scent, usually, but now that it makes Geralt catch him sneaking up from behind when he previously wouldn't have? Now that Jaskier smells less like _Jaskier_ and more like _Jaskier-and-Geralt_ , the witcher catches his scent almost immediately and, like Jaskier is a misbehaving pup and Geralt is his long-suffering caretaker, he grabs him by the scruff of his doublet and drags him back to where he's, at least from Geralt's perspective, _supposed to stay_. 

Honestly, Jaskier loves him, but he is so fucking _bored_. 

Is it really any surprise, then, that he takes up spying again?

Look, it isn't his fault. He's easily bored. He just wants a little excitement and adventure, and Geralt won't let him near the big bad beasties, so what else is he supposed to do? It's not like he hasn't spied before. Besides, Geralt doesn't have to know.

And at first it absolutely works out that way. He gets an assignment and claims he needs to go back to Oxenfurt, they part ways, he goes wherever he's actually been sent, they meet up again. Rinse and repeat. This time, though, certain things change.

Namely, Geralt is there.

Okay, so, essentially Jaskier has been sent to some smaller noble's court, and he's supposed to be gathering intelligence in the way only a famous musician can: through wit and charm. No one ever suspects the conspicuous, promiscuous, gregarious, libertine of a bard to be a spy. Spies are supposed to be foul-mouthed and shadowy and perhaps a bit menacing, as far as most people are concerned. So he smiles and laughs and flirts and drinks (wine, not guests, though he can't help but be a _bit_ tempted). 

A bard, in fact, is the perfect candidate for a spy. He uses his charm to gather information, his impressive memory to store it, his conspicuousness to hide in plain sight, his connections to get to the right people. This _particular_ bard has the added bonus of being able to drink and drink and never actually become drunk. Who wouldn't trust the wine-soaked, friendly, colourful man with their gossip and secrets, after all?

Usually he uses his career success for these little jobs, but there will be no performing tonight. Tonight he is not here as Jaskier the bard, but as Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. There are certain things he is tasked with learning about the Lord of this place, and only someone of his rank will do.

This noble — Lord Laerton — is not a patron of the arts. He doesn't really like music, apparently, which is probably the worst thing that anyone has ever said. He is warned in advance, of course, because no one expects him to react well to something like that. What's important about that is that Lord Laerton does not know anything about Jaskier the bard beyond that he is a bard called Jaskier. He doesn't realise that Jaskier and Julian are the same person.

He also doesn't realise that Jaskier has basically built his career around a certain Geralt of Rivia.

How does Jaskier find this out? Why does it matter? Well, Lord Laerton is talking about how he'd invited a witcher to his little party, because he had lifted some sort of curse or something. Jaskier isn't listening, really, because he's suddenly face to face with one very unimpressed-looking Geralt of Rivia.

This is not ideal.

Decades together mean that Geralt and Jaskier can read one another like a fucking book. As they are introduced (as he's introduced to his own _husband_ , dear Gods, he's going to tell this story until the day he dies) they silently communicate. Jaskier tries to convey, with the polite smile he gives to strangers, that they _do not know each other_. It appears that Geralt gets the hint.

"My, you really did invite a witcher!" he whispers to Lord Laerton, the same way a human might if they didn't know just how sensitive witcher hearing is, as if it's something private between the two of them. "I'll admit, I half thought it was merely a jest!" 

Lord Laerton laughs and says something smug and patronising and Jaskier smiles and nods before turning to Geralt. "Forgive me, I've never spied a real witcher before," he says. It's a complete lie, and they both know it; Jaskier has probably met every witcher that still lives, at this point. He's hoping that Geralt will pick up on the word _spied_. He'd rather be told off for this later when the job is successfully done, and not later when they've just barely escaped the estate by the skin of their teeth. "Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove."

Geralt gives him that _look_. It's his _I can't leave you alone for five minutes_ look. Jaskier gets that look a lot. Thankfully, to anyone who doesn't know his dear husband, it just looks like a regular scowl. Eventually he answers, "Geralt of Rivia."

Jaskier beams at Geralt with an openly awestruck expression. "Oh, you're the _White Wolf!_ I've heard so many _stories_..."

"That would be the fault of a certain bard who can't keep himself out of trouble," the witcher growls back, just cryptic enough. 

Before Jaskier can open his mouth to respond to that, because he is an absolute sucker for wordplay with his scary husband, Lord Laerton says, "Sounds like every bard. Trouble, all of them." 

And Geralt makes that face that he makes when he's about to be the one to get them in trouble, because if there's one thing Jaskier's learned lately it's that no one can insult Jaskier but him, because with Geralt it is always a joke. As much as he thinks this possessive side of his lover is kind of hot, now is not the time for it. 

"That's true," he says with a laugh. It sounds forced to him and to Geralt, two perfect strangers for the evening, but it's free and natural to anyone else. "Hopefully the good witcher's bard at least makes his trouble without his pants 'round his ankles!" 

Because bards are promiscuous, get it? Ha. Ha. It's exhaustingly unfunny but of course the Lord practically guffaws at it. Boring people love boring jokes. 

The rest of the night passes much the same. Jaskier drinks and dances and talks to everyone except the one person he really wants to. He keeps a distance from his White Wolf, because people are still stupidly afraid of witchers and to be too overly friendly would be more suspicious than anything. He can feel Geralt's eyes on him the entire night, and it adds another layer of excitement, somehow. Geralt is a rogue variable and Jaskier is thrilled at his relative inability to account for it. 

Finally, when the party winds down, they take their leave — separately, of course. The witcher leaves first, and it might just be wishful thinking but Jaskier almost feels like Geralt is saying _I trust you not to get hurt_ by leaving him alone here. He really appreciates it if that's the case. 

They meet up again a safe distance away. Jaskier waits to be growled at by a frustrated witcher.

"You should really start telling me where they send you beforehand," Geralt says instead.

Jaskier gapes at him. "I'm sorry?"

Geralt shrugs, and Jaskier honestly can't figure out whether he actually misunderstands or is just being intentionally obtuse. "You don't need to apologise. It would just keep something like this from happening."

"You... knew that I was spying again?" he asks tentatively. 

"Was it supposed to be a secret?" the witcher answers.

"Well... maybe?" Jaskier shrugs. "You always want to keep me from anything exciting, so I thought... I don't know, that you wouldn't like it?"

"I don't have to like it," Geralt says. "You can make your own decisions."

"Yet I can't watch you saving damsels and slaying evil beasts?" he counters.

Geralt gives him the _you're being ridiculous_ look. "That's different," he says, ignoring the wording entirely.

"Why?"

And the witcher falters, for just a moment, before he says, "It's harder to fight when you're there. I can't focus on hitting the monster and not being hit by the monster if I also have to worry about whether or not I'll be hitting you."

"Oh," he says. "Well, now I feel a little silly."

"Hmm."

"But you didn't just say that!" Jaskier accuses. "You really need to start saying these things, Geralt. Remember what Ciri said? 'Open communication is the key to any successful and long-lasting relationship'—"

Geralt glares at him without an ounce of actual anger. "I knew you put her up to it."

"I did no such thing!" Jaskier insists. "I— wh— Geralt! Hey, put me down!"


End file.
